


Without You I'm Lost

by MegaraWatson2785



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Grieving John Watson, John is dealing with Sherlock's death, POV John Watson, Post-Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 07:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegaraWatson2785/pseuds/MegaraWatson2785
Summary: It's been a week since Sherlock died. John was handling it like any other ordinary human being would, grieving. But would one request from Lestrade change his life, forever?





	1. Chapter 1

"This phone call, it's my note. That's what people do don't they...leave a note."

I took a deep breath as I looked at the shape of Sherlock with wide eyes. He couldn't...he wouldn't...would he?

"Leave a note when?"

It was a stupid question really, but I just couldn't believe it. There is no possible way Sherlock Holmes would jump off this roof.

"Goodbye John."

"No. Don't-"

From the looks of it, it seemed that Sherlock threw his phone on the ground. He gave me one last look, a look that told me everything we were never quite able to say to one another. Those three words that would have changed everything. He knew if he said them, he wouldn't be able to go through with it, so he kept quiet.

Everything slowed down. I watched in shock as he fell from the building his coat flying behind him. It was all a blur. Then time sped up and before I could react he was already on the ground

"No" I whispered. It was all I could manage to get out.

...

I woke with a start, my forehead drenched with sweat. I attempted to get up, but quickly realized I was tangled in the sheets. I fell backwards onto my bed and bashed the back of my head on the headboard. I chocked on a sob, trying to keep quiet so that Mrs. Hudson wouldn't hear. The last thing I needed was for her to come and try to comfort me. It was a nice effort, but never helped.

I remained still in bed, trying to decide what to do. It was the same thoughts as every morning. Stay in bed, or get up and eat. Staying in bed always won, because getting up meant facing people and facing people meant hearing their poor attempts on making me feel better.

Ah yes, and there was one more thought that always joined the war going on inside my head. What would Sherlock do?

"Sherlock wouldn't mourn" I told myself each morning.

"Sherlock would get up and complain that if he stayed in bed his brain would rot and then where would we be?"

I heard his voice in my head, telling me mourning won't do me any good, just as it had every morning. But something about this morning was different. It was like there was an invisible force pulling me out of bed. I untangled myself from the sheets and stood up. It was like every movement drained the energy out of me. I took a deep breath, grabbed the doorknob, and opened the door.

...

"John!" Mrs. Hudson said with a warm smile.

She had a surprised look on her face. Did people really believe I was going to stay in bed forever? To be fair, that's what I was planning.

"I was just going to make your morning tea" she said, looking me over. I probably looked awful. I had been in bed for a week, only getting up to drink and use the loo.

"You make tea for me?" I asked her, confused. I suppose I wouldn't know if she did or not, considering I haven't been in the kitchen.

"I make tea for you every morning" she replied plainly. I felt half-bad for not bothering to check on her. She was in just as much pain as I am.

I nodded at her with appreciation. Mrs. Hudson was most likely the only person I could stand right now.

"So..." She looked at me with sad smile. "How are you?"

I sat down in my chair. Sighing, I thought to myself, "Is everything going to remind me of him?" I had considered moving out many times over the past week, but I couldn't bear leave 221B Baker Street. Good memories or not.

"As good as I'll ever be at this point in the game" I said quietly, more to myself then her.

"No one can blame you John, it's only been a week. I couldn't ever expect you to get over what...what happened, in a week." She looked down at the ground, and by the looks of it, she was recalling some sort memory.

I smiled a appreciative smile at her. Mrs. Hudson had known Sherlock for longer than I had. She's the only, well woman Sherlock had ever let get close to him.

"What are your plans for today?" Mrs. Hudson asked, trying to make conversation. Human nature was a strange thing. We all hate silence. We'll do anything possible to avoid it.

I was about to tell her she didn't have to make conversation with me, but luckily, my phone saved me. I reached for the phone to answer, but Mrs. Hudson pushed it out of my reach.

"You are not to even thinking about this phone until you eat something and take a proper shower" she said, motherly like. She had always been a motherly figure to Sherlock and I.

"Mrs. Hudson what if-"

"I will answer the phone. Go get a shower. Frankly dear, you smell, and if you keep it up, I'm going to have to kick you out." A smile ran across her lips. Humour, another part of human nature. We use humour to connect.

I sighed and dragged myself into the bathroom. As annoying as it was, I needed someone like Mrs. Hudson now more than ever. While I stepped into the shower, I heard her voice from the sitting room. I had a short flashback of my therapy sessions.

"You just wrote "still has trust issues" on your paper"

"And your reading my writing upside down. See what I mean?"

I decided against eavesdropping and turned the cold water on. I tried to wash away my feelings, if that was even possible.

...

"Well, who was it" I asked Mrs. Hudson when I got out of the shower. Although I would never admit it out loud, I felt much better after getting a shower. Perhaps if I started taking proper care of myself, the grief would slowly wash away.

"Ah! You smell much better now" she replied, avoiding the question. Why would she avoid the question?

I walked over to my chair and plopped in it. A flashback came to me of the first time I sat in that chair, when Sherlock dragged me to a crime scene.

"Your a doctor, in fact, your an army doctor" Sherlock said with a mischievous light in his eyes.

"Yes" I replied bluntly. What was he getting at?

"Any good?" He asked. Didn't he just leave? Why was he back?

I stood up, trying to add height to myself. "Very good."

"You've seen a lot of injuries then, violent deaths?" He said this while strutting towards me.

Was he trying to bring back traumatic memories!?

"Yes" I said, with a glare.

"Bit of trouble too I bet" he said to me.

Idiot, I thought.

"Yes, of course, enough for a lifetime far too much."

A grin played across his lips.

"Want to go see some more?" He asked.

"Oh God yes" I replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He walked quickly, not making any acceptions for my limp.

Thinking back to it, he was the first, and only person to never slow down for me. He always treated me as just another person. Maybe that was his goal all along. To get rid of my limp, to prove a point. I wonder how my life would have turned out if i never went to that crime scene, if I never ran into Stanford that day. Would I be this broken right now?

Snapping out of it, I asked, "Enough games Mrs. Hudson, who was it?"

"Eat your food dear, before it gets cold."

She had made me my favourite breakfast, beans, sausage, a fried egg, toast, and tomatoes. Never had I been so tempted to eat something over the past week, but the temptation still wasn't strong enough.

"Not hungry" I replied. "Now answer the question." Who was she to think that she couldn't tell me who called me on my own phone!?

"It was Mike Stamford" Mrs. Hudson responded a little to quickly. I know from my days with Sherlock that meant she was lying. He could see through anyone with just a glance.

"Fibbing." He may have been the world's best-and only consulting detective, but I could always tell if someone was lying.

"It was Molly."

She scratched her nose.

"Fibbing, Mrs. Hudson." I sometimes wonder if my super power was one of the only reasons Sherlock kept me around.

"Eat some food and I'll tell you who it was" She said, handing me my plate. Was she bribing me? If she was, it was working. I took a bite of toast. It was all I could stomach.

"Happy?" I snapped at her. I didn't mean for it to come out rude. I remember the last time someone other than Sherlock was rude to her. He probably would have attacked me.

"Yes...It was Lestrade" She whispered, not making eye contact. I just barley made out what she had said.

Lestrade. No wonder she wouldn't tell me. If I had answered, it wouldn't have been pretty. It was all his fault. If he hadn't arrested Sherlock and I that night, would he still be here?

"What does he want?" I replied angerly, scratching the back of my head. There was a bump there from when I hit my head. I winced at the touch of it.

"I need your help on a case."

A voice sounded from the doorway. I turned around to see who the new voice had came from. Lestrade. He was standing in my doorway.

"Get out."

He was the last person I wanted to see. If he was expecting a happy reunion this morning, he would leave here disappointed.

"John at least hear-"

"GET OUT!" I shouted at him. All the anger I had concealed behind my sadness came out all at once. Everything I had been holding back at the funeral when I saw him, everything I couldn't say there, came out in those two words.

Lestrade winced at my words. "Please John, at least listen to me."

"And why exactly should I listen to you? You're the one who drove him to...do what he did! Now you have the gull to walk into my flat and ask for my help!? Get. Out."

I was furious. I have never hated someone more in my life. I would have shouted at him, but experience taught me that keeping the same tone and a straight face had the same effect, if not better. I took a deep breath and a few steps away so I wouldn't do anything I would regret.

Mrs. Hudson had a shocked look on her face. I suddenly felt bad for saying what I had said, but not bad enough to make me feel guilty. Sherlock wouldn't have been happy if he was here. However, if he was here, none of this would be happening right now.

"John Watson I am ashamed of you. Sherlock would not want you to treat one of his good friends in this way."

Mrs. Hudson scolding you was like a mother scolding her child. You couldn't un-see the look she gave you. She crossed the room and slammed the door behind her as she left the room. I had never seen her this ferocious before.

...

"Soo...I'm just going to say this straight out. I can't help you with your case. I'm not Sherlock."After I had calmed down, I managed to have a civil conversation with Lestrade. He was sitting across the table from me.

"I know. I know your not Sherlock. But you knew him better then any of us. You knew how he worked better then anyone. And if all else fails, we could really use your doctor skills." He was staring down at his hands, refusing to look up and make eye contact. If he did look up, he would see all the hatred in my eyes, looking right at him.

"Even if I could help on the case, my answer is still no.. It reminds me too much of...him. In fact, everything reminds me of him. I can't go anywhere without thinking of him!" If my conscience was trying to guilt Lestrade, the look on his face told me it was working. I titled my head up, trying to hold back my tears. I would not cry in front of him.

"John, I understand this is hard for you, but this case is very important. We're at our wits end. We need your help." He threw me a desperate look. He clearly had no hope on solving this case.

I scoffed. "Everything I have to say has probably already crossed your mind." I froze and slapped a hand over my mouth. I couldn't believe what I had just said.

"Sorry boys, I'm soooooo changeable"

My eyes flickered from the red dot on Sherlock to Jim Moriarty, standiing only 10 feet away from me. We were so close, so close to escaping. I should have known better, it's never that simple with him.

"It is a weakness with me but, to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness."

He slowly walked towards Sherlock and I. Every step drained a bit of hope from me. How could we possibly get out of this one?

"You can't be aloud to continue. You just can't." Moriarty shook his head. "I would try to convince you but, everything I have to say has already crossed your mind." His voice changed from many different tones whilst saying this. He spread his arms out and gave a little smirk. He was enjoying himself.

"Probably my answer has crossed yours." Sherlock raised his gun and pointed it at Moriarty. If I hadn't been living with him for the past while, I would have never known that he was scared. And that meant something, Sherlock Holmes doesn't get scared. He slowly lowered his gun to point at the bomb-jacket, not breaking eye contact with Moriarty. His eyes were watery. Jim Moriarty tilted his head to the side, giving him a "What are you going to do" look. I probably looked terrified. I felt it, anyways. A smile played across Moriarty's lips. How could he possibly be smiling, he was about to die.

The next thing that happened not even Sherlock Holmes could predict. "Staying Alive" by the Bee Gees started to play. Sherlock's eyes looked around to swimming pool, but his head remained still. He gave a quick glance at me but quickly returned his eyes to Moriarty. Moriarty closed his eyes and sighed, giving a look that would say this has happened before.

"Do you mind if I get that?" He asked, shaking his head.

"Oh no, please. You've got the rest of your life" Sherlock replied. He waved his gun at him for dramatics.

"Hello. Yes of course it is what do you want?" He mouthed the word "sorry" at Sherlock, to which he mouthed back "it's fine." It was most civil death threat I have ever seen. These two definitely were not ordinary. Moriarty turned around with an annoyed look on his face. It was silent for a moment but then...

"SAY THAT AGAIN." Moriarty shouted. I had to resist the urge not to jump out of my skin. Somehow it had not frightened Sherlock. The only sign that he gave of being frightened was a little twitch of his hand holding the gun.

"Say that again and know that if your lying to me, I will find you, and I will skiiiiiiinnn you." He used his hand for effect, most likely trying to frighten Sherlock and I. "Away" was his final word before hanging up. He furrowed his eyebrows. "Sorry, wrong day to die."

"Oh" Sherlock replied. "Did you get a better offer?"

"You'll be hearing from me Sherlock" Moriarty said while walking away. Sherlock kept his gun pointed at him.

He snapped his fingers, and the snipers were gone.

I shuddered at the thought of saying something Moriarty had used against Sherlock as a threat. Removing the hand clasped over my mouth, I took a deep breath, and counted to ten, momentarily forgetting Lestrade was across the table from me. I was so lost in thought that I was completely oblivious to Lestrade calling my name.

"Are you even listing to me?" Lestrade snapped. The look on his face told me that he regretted snapping at me immediately. He knew that if he even came off a bit to strong, I would kick him out in an instant.

"What...oh yea I'm listening. Um, tell me more about the case." I tried to play it off as if nothing had happened.

"Are you alright John?" He has a genuine look of concern on his face. Like him or not, he was one of Sherlock's only friends before me, and I knew he cared for Sherlock's, and my well being.

"Yes, I'm fine." I said this in a tone which clearly told him I was not up for discussing if I was alright or not, with him. "Just get on with the case already, I'm growing impatient."

"Right. The client's name is Mary Morstan. She was at home on a Friday night watching a movie with three of her friends. She told us that one of her friends heard a sound coming from the back door, and decided to investigate." Lestrade paused and scratched behind his ear. He was nervous. Why was he nervous? I gave him a look as if to say "Hurry up".

"It had been about ten minutes after she left, that Mary grew concerned. She was about to check to see what she was doing, when she heard a scream. Her friend's scream." He looked around the room. "Listen, John, What I'm about to tell you is top secret. You have to swear on life you won't tell anyone." I did I quick look over of Lestrade. He was fidgeting with his hands and now that I think of it, he's been constantly looking over his shoulder, as if someone was about to show up. What was he so afraid of?

"It's not like I have anyone to tell" I replied bitterly. Lestrade immediately regretted his choice in wording. I muffled a sigh. I don't think I'll ever be able to get over Sherlock. It was right there, in that moment, that I decided to stop. Stop trying to get over him, because it was in that moment that I realized, it was never going to happen. Because of Sherlock Holmes, I had started living again. Living life to it's fullest, never knowing what adventure would come up next. Now, because of Sherlock Holmes, I had stopped living, returning to my dull life. Boring, as Sherlock called it. In fact, this life was even worse than my old one. At least my old one had hope.

"Listen, John, I should probably just leave." I had never seen Lestrade so utterly hopeless before. As much as I hated the man, I couldn't let an innocent suffer. When I didn't respond, he stood up to leave.

"No-wait." He turned around and looked at me with a surprised face. I stood up."Let me hear the rest of the case, then I'll decide if I'll help for not." A bit of hope flashed in his eyes.

"Does this mean you've forgiven me?" I thought about the question for a moment. Had I forgiven him? I thought back to the events that led up to Sherlock's death. The one person Sherlock thought would never doubt him, doubted him. Everyone thought it was a fake. He destroyed him.

"No. But I won't let and innocent suffer. Now, sit back down, and tell me about the case." This came out in a commanding tone, reminding me of my days in the army. I haven't had to use that tone since, well, the army. We both walked back over to the table and took a seat. The next thing Lestrade has to say would have even made Sherlock gasp.

"Well, Mary and her two friends ran outside to see what had happened. When they got outside, they saw, well the girl was missing and all that was left was a symbol, on the ground." Lestrade grabbed a pen and paper and started drawing something. After about 15 seconds, he turned the paper around and showed me what he had drawn. It was the letter M with two diagonal slashes, going downwards to the bottom right, through the M.

"What is it." I asked, rubbing my chin.

"No clue. But if we want to find the missing girl, we need your help." He was practically begging me to help him. "What do you say John," Lestrade said folding his hands on the table. "Are you up for a new case?"

...

It was the morning after Lestrade came to our-my flat. I had told him that I need some time to think. On one hand, if I didn't help, people could die. But on the other hand, I'm not Sherlock Holmes. I doubt I would be any help to them. Well at least that's what I was telling myself. The truth is, I don't want to solve crimes without Sherlock. If I went back to solving crimes, like the good old days, I would most likely have an emotional breakdown on the crime scene. I was getting no further in making a decision, so I did what one does when they have nothing let to do. Make a pros and cons list.

The pros were simple, I could potentially save a life. I could keep myself distracted from my grief, and I would have something to live for again. But then there was the cons, Sherlock Holmes. I only solve crimes with Sherlock. If I did something like this, continuing the business, well it just reminds me too much of him.

The worst part, was that the longer I took to decide, the more danger this woman, whoever she is, was in. I was sitting in my chair in the sitting room, eating some dry cereal for breakfast, (I was out of milk, but I refused to leave the flat until I absolutely had to.) when something on the tele caught my attention. The woman speaking said something that made my jaw drop.

"Breaking news. Just last night a 30 year old man was kidnapped from his home. He was described as a tall, brown hair, white male. He was wearing blue jeans and a green, button up, long sleeve shirt. There was no evidence at his home. All the police found was this."

There it was. The symbol that Lestrade has described. It was spray painted on the wall. The woman on the tele continued talking but I didn't hear any of it. I was lost in thought. Another person. Another person was kidnapped by this...whoever it was. That was the last straw for me. This couldn't continue. I grabbed my phone from my jean pocket, and dialed a number.

"Lestrade? I'll take the case."


	2. Chapter 2

"Goodbye John."

"No. Don't-"

Sherlock threw his phone on the ground, without breaking his eyes away from me. He lifted his arm and reached for me. I returned the gesture. I had to stop him. He can't jump off this roof, I...I need him. If only I had the guts to say that aloud. Maybe he wouldn't jump if I did say it. By the time I had decided what to do, it was already too late. He spread his arms out, and let gravity do the rest.

"No. SHERLOCK!"

He fell gracefully, his coat whipping behind him. I was frozen on the spot. Before I could react, before I could even move, he was already on the ground. I stared wide-eyed. As soon as I snapped out of it, I began to jog over to him. My blood was rushing and my fists were clenched. I almost reached him, but then I got knocked over by some idoit bike rider who wasn't watching where he was going. I fell to the ground, having the air knocked out of me. I stayed on the ground for a moment or two, but quickly regained my strength and made it over to Sherlock. There was a crowd surrounding him.

"I'm a doctor let me come through." I said as I push my way through the crowd. "Please, he's my friend, he's my friend." I pushed through the people holding me back and leaned down to take his pulse. There was a look of disbelief on my face. He couldn't be dead, he just couldn't. They pulled me away from him when I felt no pulse, and I fell to the ground as they put his body on a stretcher. "Oh Jesus no. Oh god no." I couldn't tear my eyes away from his body. The paramedics pulled him into the hospital on the stretcher, whilst I was left standing in the street, in utter bewilderment.

...

I opened my eyes. This nightmare was different. I wasn't frightened, just depressed. I ran my hand through my hair, then rubbed my eyes. I realized that I had been crying in my sleep. That's a new one. I sighed and turned my head to look at the time. 6 o'clock. I groaned and thought to myself, how could it only be 6 o'clock? Savoring one last minute in bed, I decided to get up, knowing that I probably wouldn't fall back asleep anyways.

When I reached the kitchen, I quickly discovered I had a newfound motivation. I wasn't sure where it was from, but none the less, I'm glad it's there. Smiling to myself, I decided to make pancakes. I wasn't sure why pancakes, but today just felt like a pancake day. It didn't take long to notice that I was out of milk.

"Damn" I cursed under my breath. Although I don't know what I was expecting, you can never rely on Sherlock to get milk. However, I continued making my pancakes. How hard could it possibly be?

The answer to that question is: pretty damn hard. Replacing milk with water is harder than it sounds. But when I finally finished cooking, it was 100% worth it. Just as I was sitting down in my chair, Mrs. Hudson burst into our flat.

"Ah, John! You're feeling much better today, aren't you?" She was grinning from ear to ear. What had gotten her so happy?

"Seems I'm not the only one" I replied, smiling at her. "What's gotten you so happy?"

"Oh nothing" she said, giving me a look that clearly said it wasn't nothing. "Mind if I have one of those?" Mrs. Hudson asked cheerfully, eyes drifting towards my small pile of pancakes.

"Oh yea, sure go ahead." We sat and ate in comfortable silence, and I couldn't help but wonder where Sherlock was. He's normally back from, well whatever he does in the morning by now. I was about to go and grab another pancake, but I was interrupted by a text. I picked up my phone and checked to see who it was. Lestrade. The text read, "Meet me at the police station at 8." And right then I remembered why I was in such a great mood. We have a case. Finally after a whole week without a case, we have a case.

I wonder how fast Sherlock will solve this one? Maybe he'll beat his record of-

And then it hit me. Sherlock isn't solving this case with me. There's no more Sherlock and John. It's just John now. I'm alone. And that was all it took to crush my mood.

"John are you alright? You look like you've just seen a ghost!" Mrs. Hudson had a look of concern in her eyes. I suddenly realized why she was so happy, I was eating. I haven't eaten this much since...since what happened. I realized I had been holding my fork in mid-air.

"You should probably put that cup back on its saucer now, John."

Hearing his voice in my head, I remembered the Buckingham Palace. That had been a strange day. The day we met Irene Adler. The Woman. Although Sherlock never admitted it, he had feelings for her. I just know it.

"John. John are you listening? Can you hear me?" Mrs. Hudson leaned forward and touched my arm. I looked up, but didn't fully reach her eyes. "Yes, I can hear you" I said slowly. "I'm not hungry, you can have the rest of these" I said, motioning towards the pancakes. I teared my eyes away from her concerned eyes. "I'm going to go grab a shower" I said softly. As I was leaving the room, I could have sworn I heard a feint whisper of "Oh John."

...

"Just on time!" A peppy, male voice says as I enter the police station.

"Jesus, you sound like Sherlock when we were investigating kidnapped children" I say jokingly. "What's got you so excited at 8 in the morning?"

"What's got me so excited," Lestrade says slowly, "Is that we actually have a chance on solving this case now." I didn't reply at first. Not just because I thought I couldn't help, but because of what I had said. I've spent a total of 30 seconds on a case, and I'm already talking about Sherlock. Well, I suppose there's no going back now.

"Well, are we going to the crime scene or not?" I ask, trying to get to the point.

"Yes, of course. Follow me."

When we got to the crime scene, I had about a hundred flashbacks of solving crimes with Sherlock, but I may have been underestimating it. There wasn't many officers there. At least not many I could recognize. Doing a quick scan of the exterior of the house, I walked towards the police tape, hands in my pockets. It wasn't until I reached the police tape, that I had to take my hands out of my pockets to lift it up. Such an old habit of mine, keeping my hands in my pockets at police lines. I always knew Sherlock would be there to lift up the police tape for me, it was his equivalent of holding a door open for me. I looked to the side to see that Lestrade had fallen into pace with me. "Is here?"

"Yes, she's just inside, and uh, there's something I didn't tell you about her..." Lestrade was fidgeting shirt. I've never seen the man more unsettled on a case before.

"Well get out with it" I said, my patience wearing thin.

"You see, um..." Lestrade trailed off. If Sherlock was here, he probably would have scared it out of him by now. I threw him an annoyed look, which will hopefully speed the process up. And then he came out with it, all at once. " is helping with the case."

Seriously? That's what he was so antsy about?

"Yes, witnesses normally help out with their cases" I hissed sarcastically.

"Well, uhm, as much as I hate to admit it, Mrs. Morstan is an amazing detective. And, um, considering...recent events, we made a umm...deal." I don't think it was humanly possible for him to take any longer with what he was trying to say.

"Any day now" I growled at him. I just wanted to do my part with this case, and be done with it. "What this little deal you're so afraid to tell me about?"

"Right, uh, the deal I made with her was that if you couldn't help with the case, which I doubt, of course, then I have to let her try to solve it." He looked ashamed of himself, which I didn't understand. He's getting extra help, what's the big deal about that?

"And you didn't want to tell me this becausee...?" I said, waiting for an explanation.

"I didn't want you to think I was trying to replace Sherlock." I understood. Understood why Lestrade had been treading so carefully around me. He didn't want me to think he was replacing the person whom I cared for the most. As much as I hate to admit it, I think the reason I was angry with Lestrade, was because I did think he was trying to replace Sherlock. And in doing this, he would be saying that he never truly cared for Sherlock, only used him for his brains. A sudden wave of guilt washed over me. All this time he was just trying to watch out for me.

"Listen John, I know your angry with me. But can we please put this aside, for the sake of th-" I cut him off. I wouldn't let him finish that sentence.

"Greg." I said, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Please John, If you're going to yell at me, save it for later." He's a good man, I thought. Willing to take my wrath later just so he can help save a life.

"I forgive you." The look of shock on Lestrade's face when I said those three words, was worth it all.

"You...You do?" He looked more relived then I'd ever seen him in his life. I stretched my arms out, wrapping him into a hug. "Of course I do." I whispered. "I...I'm sorry for shouting at you yesterday."

Stepping away from me, he said "Don't mention it. I should probably show you to Mrs. Morstan now, yea?"

"Lead the way" I replied.

...

"John Watson, I presume."

Mrs. Morstan was nothing like I expected. The woman I expected was a shy, beginner detective, probably getting her only experience off of the tele. But this woman, was the complete opposite of that.

"Yes hello. Very nice to meet you Mrs. Morstan." She was quite a good looking woman. She had short blond hair, eyes as blue as the ocean, and a smile you just couldn't help but smile back at. She seemed surprisingly calm, considering her friend had just been kidnapped.

"Please, call me Mary" she said kindly.

"Right. Mrs-er, Mary..." I threw a shy smile at her. What was I doing?! I'm here to solve a case, not get a date! Maybe if I keep repeating that in my head it might stick. "I'm just going to start out and ask some simple questions, okay?" I was trying to be gentle with her. Why was I trying to be gentle? If I'm too gentle she'll think I think she can't handle what's going on, which she can, of course. I mean, I think she can.

Quite flirting and get to work!

Sherlock's voice was clear as day in my head. And as much as I hate to admit it, he was right. Or...his voice was right. I'm here on a case. Nothing more. Mary took a few steps closer to me and before I could react, she was right next to me, whispering in my ear. "John. I know this is your first case alone." I was about to ask her how she knew that, but she cut me off. "Don't ask, Lestrade told me. Anyways, I understand you're a little nervous, but there's no reason to be." She backed away from my ear, and locked her eyes with mine. "I believe in you. You can solve this case."

I remained still, staring with shock. How could she possibly believe in me, she's never even meet me!

She was a bit too close if you ask me. I don't trust her.

Ah of course. I could always count on Sherlock to have something to say, even when he's not here. He's the King of Comebacks. He would outlive God trying to get the last word.

Get out of my head.

Coming back to reality, Mary was still standing across from me, waiting for me to reply. Jesus, I haven't been this in shock since Irene Adler flirted with Sherlock.

"Uhm...thank you. I should probably get on with those questions, yes?" There, I just had to keep my focus on the case, and all will go well.

"Whenever you're ready" she replied.

That's better. You'll be here all day if you keep this up! Now, ask her if she has her friends over every Friday.

Get out of my head.

"So, Mary, uhm..." I didn't know what to ask. I spent all this time dancing around the problem and now I don't even know what to ask.

I told you what to ask!

Damn him for always being right. Sighing, I asked "Do you have you're friends over every Friday?"

"Yes, it's a little tradition of ours. Janine, my best friend, and two other girls, I was asked not to reveal their names, sorry, and myself, watch our favourite movies every every Friday." She spoke with a tone of authority, like you would want to obey her every order. This must have meant she had an authoritative job in her past. I would think she still had this job, but her haircut says she had to maintain a sort of personal grooming, but has recently stopped doing that, because she let her hair grow messy. That means she recently lost her job.

Impressive.

I scoff. You wouldn't say that if you were actually here.

"Is there a problem, Dr. Watson?" Mary bit at me. I was confused at first, but then, too late I realized that I had scoffed out loud.

"Oh! Uhm, no, not at all. I was just, uhm, lost in thought, sorry." I replied almost too enthusiastically. My nerves were jumping around inside me. Why I am so nervous?

"Mind sharing these thoughts with me?" She replied, her sweet smile returning. This woman really was a mystery to me. She had so many different sides I couldn't keep track of them all.

I paused for a moment, letting the thoughts run through my head. "Oh!" A wave of excitement washed over me. I finally understood how Sherlock felt when he figured out something good while making deductions.

"Mary! How do your friends get over to your house on Fridays?" I was so excited I could jump up and down. I hadn't felt this good since...since Sherlock. It was strange, for the first time, the memory of Sherlock didn't upset me, it actually made me smile.

"They all drive..." She trailed off, a confused look spreading across her face. But it was quickly replaced by an amazed look, as she started to realize what I was going on about. "Except for the woman who got kidnapped! She lives not too far away so she walks here!"

"Exactly! The kidnapper must have followed her here, knowing that when she left, she would be alone, in the dark of the night." I was pacing around to room, explaining my theory to her. I was so distracted I almost forgot that's how Sherlock would always explain his theory's, pacing around the room. Almost.

"He must have hid in the backyard, in case someone had seen a suspicious person waiting outside someone's home in the middle of the night." Mary looked excited as I felt. Lestrade was right, she is an amazing detective. Not as good as Sherlock, of course, but she reminded me of him. Perfectly calm in a life-threatening situation. "Oh!" Mary shouted, running out of the room. I quickly followed her, assuming she was going to the backyard. "I thought I saw...Yes! Here it is, John." She quickly led me over to a smashed flower pot, just behind an overgrown bush.

"He must have been hiding behind this bush, and knocked the pot over! That must have been the sound you heard!" I was waving my arms all over the place, trying to make a point. I had failed to notice that Lestrade had followed us out to the backyard. He looked impressed with what I had managed to deduce.

"Not bad, John. And you thought you wouldn't be able to help."

"Come on Greg, it's so simple even you could figure it out!" What I said had been a little rude, but I was too thrilled to notice.

You stole my line.

And there's nothing you can do about it.

"The "M". Where is it?" I had to see the spray paint. I had to know if it was the same as the paint the looters used.

"The..the what?" For once, it felt good to be ahead of the game. The look of confusion on Lestrade's face was worth it all.

"The "M"! The symbol! The one the kidnapper left!" Compassion for Sherlock washed over me. I never knew how gut wrenching it was to explain things to people who are slower than you. A sudden realization hit me, when had I become the quick thinking one?

"John, it rained last night, it was washed away" Lestrade remarked. "Although, I do have pictures." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. A moment later, he handed it to me.

I took a quick glance at the photo. No, it wasn't the same paint, but it was worth looking in to. "Right, thanks Greg!" I exclaimed. I began jogging away from the crime scene when Lestrade shouted "Wait! You still have my phone!"

Without stopping, I yelled back "I'll bring your phone back later!"

"Where are you going?!"

I turned around to face Lestrade, and called out "I'm going to see Raz." As I turned to leave, I could have sworn I heard the words "Who the bloody hell is Raz?"

...

I couldn't find him. I looked everywhere Sherlock and I had spent time with Raz, but he was nowhere to be found.

You know exactly where he is, you just don't want to go there

Shut up.

It's the only way you'll find him, and you know it.

I let out a grunt of frustration. He was right. Of course he was right! The amazing Sherlock Holmes is always right! Gulping, I thought, I could never go back there, not after what happened.

You can't avoid it forever. You'll have to go there sooner or later.

Go away.

Now his stupid voice in my head was just pointing out the obvious. Of course I had to go there sometime! I'm not ready yet.

The more time you stand here pondering on whether you should go or not, the more danger that woman is. Now get to work!

It was truly amazing how fast one sentence could switch your focus. The woman. I had to recuse the woman. I got out of the dark alleyway I was currently standing in, rushed onto the Main Street, and hailed a cab.

"Where to?"

"St. Barts Hospital"

...

When I got to , it was worse than I could ever imagine. I had taken time off of work because I hadn't been able to even go near a hospital, let alone work at one everyday! I stood just on the edge of the road, eyes fixed on the hospital. Before I even realized what I was doing, I looked up at the rooftop. It was a living nightmare. I could almost see him, standing up there, prepared to jump. A single tear rolled down my cheek. Why? Why did you have to jump?

John, the woman.

Right, the woman. That's why I was here. To help Mary's friend, whoever she is. Regaining my focus, I headed towards the alleyway behind Barts. Every step I took on this ground, every breath I took of this air, reminded me of him. Hopefully I wouldn't have to spend much more time here than I already have. Looking down the alleyway, I saw just who I was looking for, Raz. I was about to call out to him, but he spoke first.

"John. Never thought I'd being seeing you again." He spoke without taking his eyes off his work. "Heard bout' what happened to Sherlock. Bloody awful that is. Makin' my newest masterpiece here in honour o' him." Ah, just as stuck up as I remembered him.

"You didn't show up" I stated, walking towards him.

He turned his head, finally making eye contact. "Show up to what?"

"My court case. You didn't show up. I got fined for that." I'm not sure why I brought that up, it just felt right.

"I wasn't takin' the bloody fall for that. Least you could afford the fine." He spoke, daring me to challenge him. "But I don't think you came her to chitchat did ya. Get on with it, unless you want to end up back in court."

I had to resist the temptation to punch him. If he wasn't vital in my case, I probably would. "Right." I pulled out my-Lestrade's phone and showed him the picture of the "M". "Do you know the author?"

He studied the photo carefully. After a moment or two, he spoke. "Molotow, burner chrome, looks cheep, bout' 150ml can, at the most. Probably about three or four pounds."

As much as I hate to say it, coming here was completely worth it. "Find the can, find the kidnapper." I whisper, more to myself than Raz.

"Yea, 'pose you could do it like that. Or I could just introduce you." A look of utter amazement spread across my face. Him? Help me?!

"Why would you do that?" I asked. I knew I was most likely throwing my chances of catching the kidnapper away, but I had to ask.

"Cause you're a friend of Sherlock's. Any friends of Sherlock's, which isn't many, get my help. We both know if he trusts you, you're trustworthy." We locked eyes. I might have been wrong about him being stuck up. I suppose even street rats like him have a code.

"Lead the way Raz."


	3. Chapter 3

Raz lead me through so many back alleyways, I wouldn't be able to find my way back even if I wanted to.

"You know," I said slowly, "We could just take the Main Street to wherever we're going."

"Take the Main Street? No bloody way!" He replied, an annoyed look on his face. "There's cops up there, and I ain't gunna get caught. Now keep quiet, I didn't bring you 'ere to make a new friend"

Oh I really missed this! As much as I hated this Raz guy, I couldn't help but admit I had missed solving cases. Somehow. through the rush of it all, I managed to forget about Sherlock for the time being.

Savor it while you can, you're stuck with me. Ah, there was my favorite smart arse. Lost in my head, I was oblivious to Raz calling out my name.

"Hey! Old man! Turn up your hearing aid! We're 'ere." He explained snarkily. Still fighting the urge to punch him, I brought my attention back to the case.

"So this man, you're about to introduce me to, what's his deal?" I asked. "Does he just kidnap people as a pastime?" A small smile spread across my face, but quickly faded when I noticed the lack of a smirk or chuckle from Sherlock at my sarcastic remark.

For the record, I did laugh.

I wish I could have heard it.

"No idea, never heard tell of this person doin' anything like this before" Raz answered, ignoring my remark. We walked a little while longer, trying to pick him out in the group of people. This place, where all these people hang out, it was like a cavern. All the walls were covered with graffiti, some of it just random nothingness, others, beautiful works of art.

"Well, 'ere she is John." She? I followed his eyes to see who he was looking at. A girl. The kidnapper is a girl. A pretty cute girl.

Focus! Don't underestimate her, remember The Woman?

Right.

Raz walked over and started talking to her. She had jet black hair, up in a high ponytail. Her jeans were denim and ripped, and her shirt was a black tank top, with a black leather jacket over top. Her ears, nose, and lip were all pierced. Wearing an annoyed look, she and Raz made their way back over to me.

"John, this is my brat sister-ow!- Teressa" he introduced her in a fake politeness.

"Sister...you have a sister?" I asked, a shocked look on my face.

"Yes he does, hello!" She bit sarcastically. "And if I ever hear you call me Tereassa it will be the last thing you say. It's Tess."

Told you not to underestimate her.

I could almost hear the I-told-you-so in his voice.

Shut up.

"Right. Tess. I don't want to cause any trouble, I just want to ask some questions" I stated calmly.

Bad move, you have to show her you're the one in charge.

Shut up.

"Well get on with it then" she demanded. I looked around the area and tried to see if anyone was in hearing range. Tess gave me an annoyed look, clearly growing impatient. I suddenly felt bad for how I treated Lestrade earlier. I took out Lestrade's phone and showed her the picture of the spray paint.

"Recognize this?" I asked.

"Ohhh you're here to bother me about the kidnapping" she sneered. "Why didn't you start with that? We could have been done by now!"

"Wait, you actually kidnapped someone" asked Raz. I turned to face him. He has been so quiet I had forgotten he was there.

"Why would I tell you?" She asked, biting her lip.

"Please Tess, this doesn't have to be difficult. Just tell me what you know and we'll be done in no time at all" I spoke, trying not say anything that might trigger her temper.

"Well I don't know nothing. And you should stay out of other people's business. One day it'll get you killed." She stated, like it was a completely normal thing to say. I should have known this wouldn't be as easy as coming here, getting the victims, and leaving. It's never that easy. Sherlock always made this look so easy. I'll never know how he did that. Always knowing what to ask, what to do, what to say. I knew none of that! I was about ready to break down. I don't know what to do, I thought.

Tell her that you don't want to bring her to the police station, but will if you have to.

That...actually isn't a half bad idea. If I have to deal with his voice in my head, I might as well put it to good use. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again. I was facing Tess, but this time, I saw Sherlock beside her. He gave me an encouraging nod.

"I don't want to bring you to the police station, but I will if I have to." I told her, trying to give my words a commanding tone.

"I'm not going nowhere with you" she sneered at me. I probably would have exploded at her if it wasn't for Sherlock standing beside her.

"Tell her that if she answers your questions, she won't have to go anywhere" Sherlock suggested. Well, more like instructed.

"If you answer my questions, you won't have to go anywhere" I insisted. I took a step closer, trying to intimate her. "And besides, if you're innocent, you should be able to answer my questions with nothing to hide."

"Nice touch" Sherlock remarked. It took everything in my willpower not to respond to him.

"For once, I actually agree with him" Raz stated. "If you've got nothin' to hide, you should be able to answer his questions." Tess looked shocked. From what I can make out, Raz and Tess are very close. It must have come as a shock to her that her brother was taking someone else's side.

"Raz! You're supposed to be on my side!" She said, sounding a little hurt.

"You were right, good deduction." Sherlock commented. I smile to myself. I couldn't help but be a little proud of myself. Even the great Sherlock thought I was doing good. It's not really him, said a little voice in the back of my head. That was all it took to being my attention back to the case at hand.

"And you're not supposed to kidnap people!" Raz shouted back at her. "Now answer the bloody question!" Tess was silent for a moment, unsure what to say. After a moment or two, she spoke.

"Fine! You want to know what I know? Ask away!" She fumed. Well, I guess it was progress.

"Thank you" I stated, trying to decide what to ask. Great, I went through all of that and I don't even know what to ask.

"Ask her if she sold the spray paint to someone or if she put the mark there herself. That will force her to give you a straight answer" Sherlock instructed. I turned my attention over to him for a moment. I didn't reply, just nodded.

"What are you lookin' at" asked a confused Raz. I quickly snapped my attention back over to Tess.

"Nothing" I replied, almost to quickly. They seemed suspicious, but let me keep talking. "Anyways, uhm, Tess, did you sell that spray paint to someone, or did you put the mark there yourself?" She let out a frustrated sigh before answering.

"What do you think" she asked, sounding defeated.

"So...you really kidnapped that woman, didn't you" asked Raz, staring her in the eye. She looked away before saying "Two people actually."

"There has to be more to it" commented Sherlock.

I couldn't help but agree with Sherlock-er, his voice. There was more. Raz said that she has never done anything like this before, or so he knew of. She didn't just kidnap two random people. There had to be a reason, but what?

"Why did you kidnap those two people" I asked. I didn't expect an answer, but it was worth a shot.

"It's how I make a living." Raz and I both had a look of utter shock on our faces. "People come to me, pay me to kidnap someone who pissed them off, give them a good fright."

"Neat." I had to stop myself from yelling at someone who wasn't even there.

"Why" I asked. She looked confused, but I continued anyways. "Why "M"? You could have put any letter, why M?"

"My employer asked me to put it there" she stated. I was afraid I knew what was coming next, but I had to ask.

"Your employer...what's his name?"

"His name..." she started to say slowly, "is Moriarty." I stood there, frozen with shock. He's dead. How could it be him. He can't be back. He just can't. I saw his body, he blew his own brains out. So how could he be back? If you looked at me now you would have never guessed I was in the army. I was panicking...I was scared. I can't face Moriarty, not without Sherlock. He was always the clever one. Who was I to think I could take his place, solve this case. It was a bigger game, it always was. It was a bigger game I wasn't ready to play.

"John, calm down. Breath. Fear is just wisdom in the face of danger, nothing to be ashamed of!" Sherlock was trying to calm me down, which was quite out of character of him. Never the less, it worked, so I was grateful for it. I can't let Moriarty distract me, not now. I took a deep breath, regained my wits, and turned my focus back on Tess. I was about to ask where the victims were, but Raz beat me to it. "The victims, where are they?" I was surprised with him, I've never seen his responsible side. "Ya'know what? I don't care. Just go get em' and bring em' to John."

Tess was shocked with her brother. "I was just trying to make us money Raz! We would have starved!" Raz was having none of it. For the first, and last time, I was actually on his side.

"We would have starved with honour. Not as kidnappers. Go. get. the victims." He spoke with the confidence of a thousand men, Not breaking eye contact for a second.

"Raz please! You have to under-" she tried to speak, but he cut her off.

"NOW" he shouted, drawing the attention of passerbys. She walked away, tears in her eyes. Raz and I stood in silence, until I dared to speak.

"That uhm, what you did, that was very responsible of you" I stated, trying to show my appreciation.

He turned to me, forcing eye contact. "We have a code, and my sister is not going to be the one to break it. I'm sorry for all the trouble she caused you." And those were the last words spoken until we got back to Mary.

...

"John, you're back! I was worried. How did it go with that uhm, Raz guy?" Mary was the first to see me arrive back at her friends house. Surprisingly, they were all still there. But what she didn't see, was who came out of the car after me.

"I'm fine Mary. Everything went fi-" I tried to speak, but was quickly cut off

"Mary!"

"Layla! You're alright" Mary shouted back, running towards us. Layla. That was her name. I wonder why she couldn't tell me it before. The two women reunited with a hug. Mary was clearly trying not to cry, but Layla was sobbing all over her. All of the laughing, crying, and hugging, attracted the attention of Lestrade. Once he reached me, he immediately started asking questions.

"John! You're back! Where did you go anyways? Was that Raz guy helpful? Well obviously he was." Lestrade rambled on. It took me a moment to finally get his attention.

"Greg! Slow down" I insisted. I would have given him the details if it wasn't for Raz, Tess, and the other man who was kidnapped coming out of my car. Well, more like Raz dragging Tess out of the car, and the kidnapped victim trying to stay as far away from Tess as possible. "I'd like you to meet Raz, his sister Tess, and your other kidnapping victim."

"Jesus. This Raz guy, is he the kidnapper" Lestrade asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"No. It's his sister, Teresa" I commented. Funny, how everyone always assumes it's the man who's the one to blame. I couldn't help but smile. I solved a case. Not only did I solve the case, I solved it in one day.

"Teresa, you're under arrest for the abduction of Layla Smalls and Jared Gray" Lestrade spoke these words he's probably spoken so many times before. He snapped his handcuffs on her, and brought her over to his car, where he placed her in the back seat. I watched him drive off, and realized I still had his phone. I didn't realize that Mary had took a place beside me.

"Thank you" she said, staring off into the distance. I turned my head to reach her eyes.

"You're welcome" I replied. "Is your friend, Layla, is she alright?"

"Yes, just a little shaken up" she said, with a soft smile. We stood for what felt like hours, but must have only been a couple of minutes. I felt the need to say something, but I had no idea what. I was always the one the break the silence with Sherlock, and now I can't even hold a decent conversation. After a little while longer,, Mary spoke.

"I was thinking.." she started to say. "Maybe we could go out to dinner, you know, to celebrate!" Dinner. She was asking me to dinner. Wait...was she asking me on a date?! A date...with Mary. Normally, I wouldn't hesitate to say yes, but this time, something was different.

"Go out, to dinner..." I stated slowly. "Like...on a date?!"

Mary laughed. "You don't have to look so scared." I didn't respond, just smiled. When Mary realized I wasn't going to respond, she spoke. "Goodbye John. I hope we'll meet some other time, on better circumstances." I watched her catch up to Layla, linking arms with her. Was I missing out? Declining her date offer. She's an amazing woman really, but my gut told me to run away from her and never turn back. I have to make a decision now, I thought. Trust my gut, or my heart.

"Screw it" I cursed to myself. I ran towards Mary, calling out her name. When I caught up to her, she looked surprised to see me.

"John? What are you doing" she asked.

I stood there, puffing, trying to catch my breath. "Mary...today's been...very...hectic..." I said, taking deep breaths in between words. "But maybe...we could have...dinner...some other time..."

"You asked him out to dinner?!" Layla asked, hitting Mary in the arm. She threw her a "Get-lost" look. Laughing, Layla threw us one more mischievous grin before walking away. I could tell they were close, probably known each other for their whole lives. Mary just smiled. They reminded me of Sherlock and I. No matter how much of an annoying jerk he was, I could never stop lov-...er, I could never hate him. That's just who he was...my best friend.

"I would love to have dinner some other time" Mary responded. She pulled out a piece of paper and wrote her phone number on it. I tentatively took the paper from her, and stuck it in my back pocket. We stood there for a moment or two longer, just looking at each other, smiling at each other. Last time I felt this content was with...Sherlock. I pushed that thought away from my head. I would not have Sherlock ruin another one of my relationships. God knows he's already done that enough times. Lost in thought, I almost didn't hear what Mary said next. "I better get going. Layla's demanding that we spend the entire night together, finishing the movie we were watching when she got kidnapped."

"Right." I said with a small smile. "I'll see you, some other time."

"Some other time." She responded. She turned and left, and I was left standing, alone, in the dark of the night. I looked around. Raz, he must have left with his sister. I hoped everything would turn out alright for them, they're good people, behind all of their walls. I headed for my car, but on my way there, I couldn't help but look up at the stars. Seeing the billions of stars out there, you couldn't help but feel small. I remember a tale my mother used to tell me when I was younger. She told me that when you die, you join our ancestors in the stars. When my mother died, I would look up at the stars every night and try to find her, or at least some sign that she was up there.

"Are you up there Sherlock...?" No answer. He barley ever answered me when he was alive, I don't know why I expected things to change now that he was dead. A tear rolled down my cheek. It felt as if a ball of darkness had swallowed up my heart. "I miss you." No response. I choked on a sob. "Dammit Sherlock! You didn't have jump. Why did you jump..." I could barely get out words that sounded relatively like English. Now that no one was around, I didn't have to stop the tears that were flowing down my face. "You didn't have to jump" I sobbed. I was about to tear my eyes away from the sky, when I shooting star flew by. Strange, they weren't normally around this time of the year. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and made my wish.

"Don't be dead."

...

"John, you're back!" I had just arrived back at the flat to find Mrs. Hudson in my sitting room.

"Well of course I'm back, I live here don't I?"

She gave me a disappointed look. "I was worried!" She exclaimed. "I didn't know if you were coming back or not."

"Why wouldn't I be coming back?" Was I missing something? I had just gone out on a case, why was she so worried?

"Well...you've just been so sad lately" she started to say. "And I noticed your gun was missing, I could only assume the worst!" There is was. She thought I had gone off, ditched the case, and did myself in. I wanted to tell her that I would never do that, that I had never, once, thought of doing that, but then I would be living a lie. Sherlock was-is-one of the most important people in my life. Of course I had thought of doing...that! But I couldn't. I thought of all the people who care for me, who I care for. I told myself that it hadn't even been a week, that it would get better. It hadn't got better, but I still held onto hope. I suppose today was the first day, since Sherlock, that I had actually smiled. Not just a fake smile to fool someone into thinking I was alright, but a true, genuine smile. I took a step closer to Mrs. Hudson, and wrapped her into a hug.

"I'm sorry I worried you. It won't happen again." She stepped out of my hug, and looked at me with a warm smile.

"Good. Get some rest now, I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

Once she had left, I sat down in my chair. It was silent, and I was left to my own thoughts. I looked across from me, at the empty chair that was once Sherlock's. When I closed my eyes, I could see him, looking right back at me. He looked concerned, and that's how I knew he wasn't real. The real Sherlock never hadn't that look on his face, at least not very often.

"Go to sleep"

"You never slept"

"I'm not you. Go to sleep"

I stood up, dragged myself up the stairs, and practically fell into my bed. "I miss you" I said to the darkness. The last thing I heard before I passed out, was a quiet "I know."


End file.
